


adroit

by smithens



Category: Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Banter, Canon Era, Holding Hands, Logic & Philosophy Week, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 07:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12427734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithens/pseuds/smithens
Summary: After excusing himself from his dancing partner, Combeferre finds Enjolras not in the ballroom but the foyer.





	adroit

**Author's Note:**

> "Foyer" in the English sense. This will make more sense if you've read up to Chapter 2 of my work To Study The Steps, which only has two chapters published as of yet. This bit takes place in between 2 and 3.
> 
> I had no idea how to tag this.

“You are more… adroit a dancer than I might have expected, given your own description, Combeferre,” said Enjolras, in lieu of announcing his presence in the foyer.

Combeferre startled, and turned around until he could see clearly where Enjolras was seated — half behind a curtain, the indigo color of which matched his dress coat. Given that he looked entirely too pleased with himself, even with his lips pressed into a line, Combeferre assumed he had been waiting to be noticed for some time. (Perhaps, it occurred to him, as long as he had been out of the ballroom.)

“I am afraid I must disappoint you, as I stepped on dear Isabelle’s little feet four times in succession, after which we retired to our seats, and she proselytized the merits of having a Bourbon in power once more. It was Courfeyrac who was enjoying himself — and dare I say he and she are competitive enough with these high society _jigs_ as to be a perfect match.”

“Jigs,” repeated Enjolras, his brow raised. “But you know them well enough to attempt with a partner, yes?” He patted the space on the divan beside him, and Combeferre approached to sit.

“Mathilde — ah, my sister —  takes great enjoyment in balls, and such, and from time to time would demand I assist her in practise. That is all. In Paris the fashion is much too quick to be entertaining, and I am not partial to dancing. _A fortiori._ ”

“You are certain this is not an aversion to the woman with whom you danced, Combeferre?”

Combeferre met his gaze, and set a hand on his thigh: here it was private enough to be familiar with one another. “You did not dance at all.”

When spoken to accusatorily Enjolras had a habit of maintaining his gaze for longer than was strictly necessary, and this was a sort of contest which Combeferre - with his dry, near-sighted eyes - had accepted long ago that he could never win. It was another little quirk of Enjolras’s that, to those close to him, was an example of his peculiar sense of humor, and referred to in jest often.

In the draped, gilded foyer of the home of Monsieur and Madame Delaunay, the look seemed especially haughty. Combeferre turned his gaze to a portrait painting on the far wall, surrendering.

“I don’t enjoy it,” replied Enjolras, and Combeferre felt his hand upon his own. “Neither the act nor the attention. I prefer to pass my evenings in the company of likeminded fellows, engaging in matters which are more meaningful and engaging, if not in my chamber or with you.”

Something in Combeferre’s chest fluttered, then in his forehead — whatever the feeling was it was pleasant, and he looked to Enjolras, illuminated by the oil lamps hung across from them, to maintain it.

He turned his hand and entwined their fingers together, and did not miss the rosy tinge which then graced Enjolras’s cheeks.

“You are with me now,” said Combeferre, and Enjolras, austere through all the evening, smiled.


End file.
